


He Gripped Him Tight Down There

by brightly_lit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Humor, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 08:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightly_lit/pseuds/brightly_lit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first time through the series, I didn't see all the Destiel and other subtext; I just thought Cas and Dean had a baffling, highly dysfunctional friendship.  But once I started seeing all that subtext, I CAN'T STOP SEEING IT.  I've grown convinced the writers ship these characters at least as hard as the fans do.  Some moments are particularly outrageous.  So this story is my only-slightly-less-subtle-than-the-show spoof of all that stuff in the series.  The title refers to Cas having gripped Dean tight down in hell, of course.  ;-)  Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Gripped Him Tight Down There

Dean and Sam wrestled a gasping Cas to the hotel bed and lay him down on it.  “Where did she get him?” Dean demanded.  “She stabbed him with an angel blade, right?”

 

“I dunno,” Sam said anxiously.  “Somewhere below the waist.  Wherever she did it, it penetrated deep.  I think she inserted it all the way in.”

 

“They’re like twelve inches long!”

 

“Longer,” Sam said soberly.

 

“Well, let’s get his pants off,” said Dean briskly, proceeding to undo Cas’s ubiquitous business slacks and pull them off.  Bright white light oozed out of the wound on Cas’s thigh.  “Oh, God,” Dean groaned.  “Cas!  Can you hear me?  She nailed you hard.”

 

“I know,” Cas said in his low voice, uncommonly husky with pain.  “I will heal, but I’ll need rest.”

 

“This is bad timing,” Sam noted.  “If we don’t follow up on those omens soon, it’ll be too late--they’ll have moved on and we’ll have lost them again.”

 

Dean looked between Sam and Cas, torn.  “I guess you’re just gonna have to go by yourself,” Dean finally said reluctantly.

 

“But Dean--”

 

“I know, but what else can we do?  Can’t leave a wounded angel here alone for any old demon to find and capture.”

 

Sam sighed.  “Why do I feel so left out?”

 

Dean gave Sam a totally brotherly pat on the shoulder that didn’t linger too long at all.  “Next time, you’ll be the one to stay behind with Cas.  Promise.”  He winked. 

 

Sam still looked glum as he packed up.  He came to Cas’s side before he left.  “Sorry you got shafted ... but Dean’ll take really good care of you.  I know he will--in the same way he always took good care of me.”  He and Dean shared a meaningful glance--it was about concern for Cas, surely.

 

“I hope so,” Cas moaned.

 

Sam left with one lingering, backward glance, then shut the door firmly behind him.  Dean sat down on the bed beside Cas, looking anxiously at his thighs.  “So, what do I do?  I mean, how do you tend angel wounds?”

 

Cas opened glazed eyes to give Dean a half-lidded stare.  “Angels ... are not like humans in this way.  You see there is no blood coming out.  Angels don’t bleed blood; they bleed love.”

 

Dean looked back at his wound.  “Love is ... white and oozy?”

 

“Evidently.”

 

Dean snorted.  “So what, all I’ve got to do is put some love back into ya?  How’m I supposed to do that, exactly?”

 

Cas gazed deeply into Dean’s eyes.  “I wish I knew.”

 

 

 

Some time later ....

 

 

Dean strapped Cas firmly into the Impala, then got in the driver’s seat.  Day had turned to night.  Cas’s head lolled on the seat back.  Dean glanced at him as he drove.  “How’s your thigh?”

 

“... Better.  You could have left me in the hotel while you went to get food for yourself.”

 

“No way!  It wouldn’t be safe.”

 

“Couldn’t you have ordered in?”

 

“Oh, Mr. Logical Thinking, eh?  Yes, I could have, now that you mention it.  I just thought it was time for the scene to change.”

 

Cas suddenly started groaning.

 

“What’s wrong?” Dean gasped.

 

“It’s my ... my thigh.  I think the seatbelt is too tight ....”

 

Dean quickly unfastened Cas’s seat belt, trying to keep his eyes on the road while he simultaneously kept an eye on Cas.  Cas bobbled a bit weakly, then slumped over, head falling directly into Dean’s lap.  “Damnit, Cas, I’m trying to drive!”

 

Cas moaned unintelligibly, only a little movement visible in the darkness of the car’s interior.  Dean let out a gutteral sigh.  “Well ... I guess you can stay there.  Just don’t, uh ... let any ooze get on the upholstery.”

 

 

 

Some time later ....

 

 

Dean propped Cas up on the hotel room bed again, careful to only touch the unwounded thigh.  He sat beside him, both leaning back against the headboard, and raised the remote.  “Let’s see what’s on,” he suggested, turning on the t.v.  Cas looked exhausted, hair mussed, clothing even more askew than usual.  “Holy shit!” Dean suddenly yelled.  “I love this hotel.  Free porn!  I know what we’re doin’ tonight.”

 

“How is that of all the available programming, I’ve only ever watched porn?” Cas asked wonderingly.

 

“That’s a really good point,” said Dean.

 

“Also, why am I always watching it with you and/or your brother in the room?”

 

“An even better question.”

 

“And then your grandfather walked in ....”

 

“Let’s stop there.”

 

Cas stared blankly for a moment, then let out one of his awkward giggles.  “An angel and a hunter walk into a brothel.  The hunter promised the angel he wouldn’t be a virgin by the end of the night, but it didn’t work out with the prostitute, so ....”

 

“No, Cas,” Dean said, quelling him with a hand over his.  “Seriously, we can’t talk about that.  Please.  Here.  Have some pie.”

 

“Angels don’t eat.”

 

“Angels don’t need to eat,” Dean corrected, “but they can.  Here.” 

 

He fed Cas some pie, who groaned ecstatically.  “Oh, God, that’s good.  That’s so good.  Give me more, Dean.  Give it to me!”

 

The hotel room door opened, and Sam walked in, to see Dean’s hand poised to feed more pie to Cas.  They were covered with pie crumbs, porn blaring.  Cas still didn’t have any pants.  “It isn’t what it looks like!” Dean cried shrilly.

 

“Oh, I know.”

 

“It isn’t!”

 

“I said I know.”

 

“This is perfectly normal behavior for a couple of buddies hanging out!”

 

“Don’t I know it.  I mean, you and I do it every day.”

 

“That’s right.  Cas is like my brother.  I think of him exactly the way I think of my brother.”  Sam nodded, understanding perfectly.  “What are you doing back so soon, anyway?”

 

Sam shrugged.  “Well, I found Lucifer, all right.”

 

“What??  You did?  Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah.  He just threatened to jump my bones the next time we see each other in Detroit like he always does, and that was pretty much it.  Why is that dude so into Detroit?”

 

“Why is that dude so into you?”

 

“Why does that dude think I’m gay?”

 

“Yeah, what’s with that??  I mean, wherever would he get that idea?”

 

Sam put his stuff down on the other queen bed, then cocked his head at Dean and Cas, confused.  “You didn’t expect me back, so ... why didn’t one of you use the other bed?”

 

“I’ve had enough of your leading questions!” Dean cried.  He jumped out of bed and shoved Sam roughly against the hotel-room wall.  They stared into each other’s eyes for an endless moment, breathing heavily. 

 

The only thing that could have broken the moment was Cas’s cry of agony behind them.  “Oh, my thigh!  It’s oozing again!  My thighs are all slippery with it ....”

 

“Oh no!” cried Dean.  Sam was all compassion, as usual.  They rushed to his side.  “Don’t worry, Cas,” Dean promised.  “We’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel better ....”

 

“Personal space, Dean!” Cas cried.

 

 

~ The End ~


End file.
